Tag Archives: Am I Rasputin?

THE FACES OF MY CANCER – ‘That part’.

Some may find the visual aids within to be too emotional for many people. The written media also targets at the minimum 14 years plus.)

Here are some pictures from various stages of my Cancer treatment.

“I have always been highly spiritual. Rarely religious.

My Queen Heals Me Spiritually

AS YOU CAN SEE I LOOKED FINE.

But, I had slowly been feeling flu like syptoms for a few weeks at this point.

I spent most mornings reflecting about life. Subliminal messages telling me to beware.

I should have not procrastinated.

Nightsweats became daysweats

7

I have a strong survivalists side. I do not lay down in a battle. It is an Irish Genetic Inheritance.

There’s humour in all instances of life. I soon had to find reasons to smile.

Hospital stay 7. Combined weeks since January 4th, 2019, equal 19, so far.

The smiles are half truths. I hide many emotions. Or rather, I ‘used’ to hide them. Now, I let the truth be told.

THE PRINCESS MARGARET CANCER HOSPITAL. I AM VERY BLESSED TO BE UNDER THE WORLD CLASS CARE THAT THEY GIVE. MANY DO NOT HAVE THIS TYPE OF EXCELLENCE AND PROFESSIONALISM.

This pain is relentless. None stop for two weeks now. 24/7, has not stopped once.

It is by far the worse pain I have ever experienced. And pain and I are lifelong buddies.

This pain is a b*dstard!!!!

Many battles won. No losses. Round Two! Finish HIM!!!!

So, this is just a tidbit of the Faces I have and must endure. There are smiling ones with genuine joy. There are sad ones with devastating sorrow. There are bland boring pictures and there are silly ‘selfies‘ taken inthe middle of a night when sleep evaded.

Here are 3 pictures that tell exactly how 18 hours of my day presently go.

Picture 1 – Pain rushes in like an out-of-control freight train. All I can do is squeeze my skull as tightly as possible and strap in for the ride.

Picture 2 – Accept that it is what it is. Unstoppable, untreatable pain. Let the tears flow – they earned their journey.

Picture 3 – Recover. No time for this to be stealing moments that are best held for love and joy. Cry it out. Hold my head high and dance in my Light.

I am an Urban Viking. The last of the Canadian Cosmonauts.

Cancer is soon to be dumbfounded when I kick it’s demonic ass into the dust of Hell whence it came.

I had a double session of radical radiation therapy every morning and another double set every afternoon for 20 days. 80 treatments, 20 days.

STRAPPED DOWN – MY VERY FIRST TREATMENT

Amazing technology

GRADUATION DAY!!!

I kept my mask. A gentle, but stark reminder of this “Walk With Dann.”

March 2, 2019 4a.m.- My spleen literally exploded. I bled out. I was brought back.

The surgeon and various doctors could only say one word to describe the recovery and my being alive.

“MIRACLE”

“Valhalla does not wish for my company and Helheim has a Peace Bond on me.”

I will post a few more similar blogs such like this one.

To add a face to my “Diary of An Old Man With The C”.

Until then I shall be wruting in the two works I have in ‘progress’.

I want to leave behind my story for my future generations to understand who and why I was placed upon this beautiful blue marble.

Till then,

Adieu

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A Conversation With My Last Born

My Last Born.

My Pride.

My Joy.

My new life began the day I watched him come into our world.

May 30th, 2003 was a memorable day in life – one of my personally happiest milestones.

Dakota, your soul is as pure and kind as is your heart is large. You are the iconic “Gentle Giant“.

I am privileged and PROUD to be your father.

I feel that I am not too demanding a father. I always kept you boys close to my side, but at the same time gave you room to soar.

I want you to soar higher than you can imagine. Go where Miss Destiny leads.

Take those doubtful “leaps”.

Important to not leap without looking.

I left home at an age where most my peers were playing with their ‘Hot Wheels” race sets.

I have been out here 50 of my 62 years. It has not been an easy journey.

Trust me on that.

I learned early that the key to basic survival is to have a true heart, practice compassion, speak only truths, listen with intentioned desire to help and most of all, stay HUMBLE.

There is nothing that will make me happier then if you follow and practise these few “rules” or “lessons”.

As you well know I tried all my life to treat my Family, my Loved Ones, my Friends and many more with respect, charity and compassion.

If you can incorporate these into your already soulful personality your life will always be Blessed my Son, always. ….

Hold your head high, always. Be Native and Verner Family Proud.

Be Humble. Humbleness is key to happiness.

Never look down upon anyone. They may be broken from a situation unknown to you or one that they suffer within alone. “Broken ” can be repaired.

Never, under any circumstance, disguise “Deceit” as “Love”.

NEVER. Emotions are not weapons.

Love is the greatest gift the Creator allows us.

THIS IS THE NUMBER ONE TRAIT YOU MUST LIVE LIFE BY, SON.

32 years with your Beautiful Mother is proof that being loyal pays.

Never stray, Son. NEVER.

Why eat cookies in shame when you have Angel Food Cake at home?

To stray is to lie about love. The worst lie of all. A lie that destroys life’s very essence.

I cannot express how strongly I feel about this.

THIS IS THE NUMBER ONE RULE TO BEING A GOOD FATHER, HUSBAND AND MAN.

Never give into that hormonal Darkness.

If I can look down from Valhalla and see my Last Born being the first born to become who he was meant to be and living a humble life, then I may finally smile and know that my humble life had meaning.

And that amazing Light locked within you will emerge and you will live a many faceted fantastic life.

And I shall be the proudest Father, Husband and Man ever to walk this walk.

I love you Dakota James McLean Verner.

I love you Son.
As I love your Brothers

#VernerFamilyProud
#LightHouseDannVerner

Cuatro en La Mañana Pensamientos Profundos

Mi alma gemela está fuera para una mini-excursión para limpiar su hermosa mente de su madre y yo luchando contra el cáncer en etapa 4 tardía.

Es desgarrador verla sufriendo mi dolor.

Antes de que ella incluso saliera de Toronto, tuve ese nudo retorcido de soledad que agarró mis testículos.

Sé muy bien que pronto estará en casa, pero “el corazón es un cazador solitario”.

Lo mío está en una nube solitaria de Apreciación y Amor.

PORQUE ME AMO Y APRECIO A MÁS ALLÁ DE CUALQUIER PALABRA QUE AUTOR AQUÍ.

Ella sabe el peso de mi Devoción y cada onza singular de amor verdadero que llevo por ella.

No hay duda si eso. Esperaré su regreso con el corazón bien abierto y los brazos levantados en Alabado sea Dios.

Porque el Señor Salvador me bendijo con el privilegio de amarla.

Y lo hago La amo inmensamente y 100% veraz.

…………………………………………………………….

My soul mate is away for a mini-excursion to clear her beautiful mind from her Mother and I both battling late stage 4 cancer.

It is heartbreaking to see her suffering my pain.

Before she even flew out of Toronto I had that twisted knot of loneliness grab my testicles.

I know darn well that she will soon be home, but the “heart is a lonely hunter”.

Mine lays in a solitary cloud of Appreciation and Love.

FOR I DO LOVE AND APPRECIATE HER BEYOND ANY WORDS I AUTHOR HERE.

She knows the weight of my Devotion and each singular ounce of true love I carry for her.

There is no doubt if that. I will await her return with my heart wide open and my arms raised in Praise God. For the Lord Savior Blessed me with the privilege of loving her.

And I do. I love her immensely and 100% truthfulness.

The Fear of Cancer

Not often I have ‘fear‘.

I have it now. I fear that I may not beat this cancer.

I was diagnosed on October 22nd, 2018, with Pharyngeal and Squamous Cell Carcinoma. Stage four.

I was past the ability to be treated via chemotherapy and conventional radiation. My only three options were let nature take her course or surgery to remove my complete tongue and lymph nodes (leaving me with zero quality of life) or receive radical aggressive radiation.

I chose the latter. Receiving a double session twice per day for twenty days. The actual treatment was easy. Just lay down, strapped in a cage and a mere fifteen minutes listening to Pink Floyd as the machine’s robotic arms did their task.

I was pleased when on March the first I completed the therapy and was told it had succeeded in killing all the tumors.

What I didn’t understand at that time was the worse part comes after the therapy. As the tumors diminished the damage from the radiation and cancer surfaces. This, apparently, can go on for up to two years.

My throat swelled and on the exterior turned purple. A side affect of the radiation burn and dying tissues within.

I had a few complications during the course of treatment. I developed a huge abscess in my lower abdominal cavity, possibly from the feeding g-tube implant. It required minor surgery to remove and drain. This was followed by a major battle with septicemia. A battle I thankfully won.

I was released from the Princess Margaret Cancer Center on January 31, 2019. After being hospitalized for twenty seven days. I was glad to be home.

At four in the morning of February the 2nd my spleen exploded. I bled out and have only survived because I live blocks from the Michael Garron Hospital. I was revived. Received four pints of blood, rapid infusion of Ringers lactate, a litre of iron sucrose and twenty nine staples on my abdomen. Complete removal of my spleen.

I spent all of February and half of March in Princess Margaret. My weight dropped down to ninety seven pounds. A far cry from my average one hundred and seventy.

I look like a survivor from a Nazi Death Camp.

I was sent home mid March to complete my treatment as an out-patient.

Things were well at first. I could not swallow most food so I was dependant on six cans of condensed Isosource nutrients to feed my body. I managed to get my weight up to one hundred and twenty-two pounds.

But, a big but, the damage from the tumors and radiation was surfacing more and more. The pain of swallowing increasingly getting worse. To the point I feared swallowing even my saliva.

This I am still plagued with as I write.

My weight loss increased and depression tried to take over my logic. I feared that I would definitely die. I have that fear still, as do my caregivers.

No longer able to function properly I resigned myself to the reality of coming back into the hospital.

Presently, I am hospitalized in the magnificent Toronto General Hospital. A Blessing of living in Toronto with the world class treatment of Toronto General and the adjoined Princess Margaret Cancer Center. Two of the best hospitals worldwide.

If I lived anywhere else I am positive I would not be authoring this blog on this foggy Sunday morning.

I am not sure what is to happen to me next. Neither are my team of doctors.

I have been here a mere few days, having been admitted on the twenty four of May. So, I am awaiting the results of my MRI, CT Scan and numerous other tests.

Tomorrow I have to have minor surgery to re-implant a gastric feeding tube and biopsy of my tongue and throat.

So far my diagnosis is as follows:

1) as my body absorbed the dead tumors it left behind holes, like potholes in a road. These ‘holes‘ have developed ulcers.

2) The ulcers can be one of three types. (A) non-cancerous, (B) Cancerous but treatable and (C) Cancerous non-treatable

3) I am severely malnourished and dehydrated.

Hopefully, by tomorrow evening I will know for sure what battle lays before me.

I am a ‘realist’. Hence, I take things in stride. It is what it is and I will deal with whatever falls my way with logic over emotions.

I also trained myself to always expect the worse possible scenarios. Reason being if I am expecting the worse no matter what my diagnosis is to be it shall be better than what I expected. A small comfort in such a serious situation.

I am not being unrealistic in my expectations. I am in a serious situation.

After many discussions with all my treatment team and my beloved family, I made the difficult decision to put in place a DNR, (Do Not Resuscitate), on my medical record.

This is justified and many tears were shed coming to the decision. It is the best avenue to take considering the condition of my physical form. My bone density is very low which means that if I were to receive CPR my ribs would shatter. Greater risk is that my heart and poor physical condition makes it ninety nine percent positive I will slip into a coma – a coma I will not recover from.

I pray no one ever has to have this discussion with their family. It was/is the most heartbreaking talk I have ever imagined having to have.

Saddest part being the reaction of my family and friends. I, being the patient, fully have accepted that I am knocking on the gates of Valhalla. I did not wish to accept it, but it is what it is.

I also have refused any major surgery that will disfigure and disable me. I refuse wholeheartedly to have my love ones suffer the anguish of watching me whither away, perhaps for weeks or months. That would scar their very souls for life. It would be selfish of me to put them through such.

They understand. They don’t like accepting it, but, once again, it is what it is.

I am not, by far, a ‘religious’ man. I am a man of faith. I believe in a higher, supreme power. Over the past 15 years I have been brought back to life 9 times so far. I wrote about these times previously. It’s suffice to say my life has been full of numerous ups and downs. Often down. It strengthened my personality and outlook on life. To most they would say my life was tragic. I see it as just ‘my life’. Sixty-one and a half years of learning and growth.

So, as it stands today, I have a battle to win. And I shall win because I am surrounded by true caring and love. I have a large group of beautiful souls who have formed a ‘Prayer Army’ on my behalf. Believe or not, but there is a power in prayers. They don’t have to be church indoctrinated chants, but rather sincere and positive praise to whoever you perceive as your Creator.

I am anxious to get the results of the tests tomorrow. The waiting and the fear of what may be is far more disheartening than the cancers themselves. The fear of the unknown instills an anxiety that clouds judgement.

I prefer sunny days over cloudy ones.

So, I will leave you now and I will blog whatever happens next in my wonderful life as soon as I know.

Until then, I remain ‘Dann, just as I am – – – The Original Urban Viking’.

NAMASTE’ MY FRIENDS

And remember to ……

ALWAYS PRAY IT FORWARD

BLESS

Trying To Find Someone Who Makes Obsidian Bracelet

I am trying to find someone who can make me a wrist bracelet or a necklace with Black Obsidian stones.

Here’s why …….

Black Obsidian Stone is a powerful cleanser of psychic smog created within your aura, and is a strong psychic protection stone. This stone has powerful metaphysical properties that will help to shield you against negativity. The energy of these stones may stimulate the gift of prophesy.

#AmIRasputin???#LightHouseDannVerner
#BuyMyBooks

Am I Finally Broken, Never To Be Repaired?

I am lost.

I am all alone in a crowded world.

A cold world for sure.

It’s not like it was during my youth.

Society has changed. The people haven’t, but their ‘society‘ has.

So, I am left to ask you, the total stranger, am I finally broken, never to be repaired?

I blame most my demise on the era I went through my puberty in.

That sliver of time between the 1950’s and it’s gospel /bluegrass/country & Western musically influenced attitude and the 1960’s Dawning of Aquarius/LSD/Frank Zappa cultural shock era.

I embraced the latter lifestyle tightly. I still do to this day. Peace, Love & Hippie Dope – the artist eccentricity creating chaos in my heart.

My choice to bear the weight being a vagabond twelve year old hippie nomad led me into a world where feelings were real and emotions ran free. Everything was black and white.

It is what it is. Never sugar coat reality.

I was always partaking in one or more exploratory excursions into the expanded conciseness mindset.

The artist within me caused an eccentric side. I loved too honestly. I angered too deep. I was a nonconformist.

I was walking counterclockwise in a clockwise world.

My analytical side over examined all and everything within my realm of life.

The ten years of chasing Her Majesty, The Black Dragon, across her tinfoil highway did not help.

I have lived over six decades so far.

My life, or lives, has/have taken five autobiographical books thus far to enlighten ‘others‘.

I certainly have not lived a ‘normal‘ set of lives.

In a confessional way you could say that I have lived a tragic and chaotic youth.

Yet, from these sixty-one year old clouded eyes, I would confess from my standpoint that I merely ‘lived’ my life.

No one sees their life as it is perceived through the eyes of others.

“What is my greatest regret? you ask.”

LOVING TRULY, MADLY & DEEPLY”, I must answer.

I was a liar, cheat, thief, punk, gangster and killer in ALL aspects of all my lives – EXCEPT WHEN IT CAME TO LOVING SOMEONE.

I can go to Helheim or Valhalla knowing that in the matter of love, I was devoted one hundred percent into staying faithful, loving truly, madly, deeply and I never held back from confessing my love to my beloved.

AND BY DOING SO I HAVE LIVED A LIFE OF TEARS. I HAVE LIVED LOVE LOCKED INTO A FANTASY I PRAYED WAS A REALITY.

A falsehood created by overthinking and over loving.

I only had a few true loves in my life.

All of which I dove heart first into.

My eccentric artist side painted fairytale portraits of family bliss on the canvas of my emotions.

My first true love being my teenage sweetheart of eight years.

She destroyed my heart by giving away my first born son and then cutting her own throat. Causing herself severe, irreversible brain damage, while I sat in the discomfort of Her Majesty’s Super Maximum Penitentiary.

The nerve of me to pay my debt to society!!!

Then there was my first wife.

I paid her mother fifty dollars for her.

True story.

Six weeks later we were legally married.

To each other.

Eight months later we were divorced.

From each other.

My Mother being horrifically murdered was more than her snitty self could handle.

I loved thinking we had been in love.

Number three lasted thirty-two years.

It was true love. No lie.

It became tainted by my rebel ways, my eccentric behavior and my constantly venturing into the Dark side.

This led to our growing apart from our original selves.

Not to say we didn’t have a good run.

We had many, many good years.

In today’s world it takes but one or two bad years to bury thirty good ones.

Unfortunately, my becoming a victim of a tragic industrial crippling accident was the catalyst of a ripple effect that ripped our family apart.

Our love for each other lost in the typhoon of modern life.

Again, the artist within had painted many a lifescape and my hands molded sculptures of everlasting bliss.

This lay cause to becoming greatly damaged emotionally upon the marriage disolution.

Then came my greatest and most cherished love. I am so deeply in love with her that I hurt.

I believe she strongly loves me, also.

But, she cannot express or confess the trueness of her love. She is robbed of enjoying the escasty and bliss of being truly loved. It was stolen by her being the victim of an expert manipulation of a Narcissistic Meth Head.

His brainwashing cut deep wounds across this beautiful soul’s heart.

My artistic eccentricity is causing me to self destruct. I have been living in a self potraited fantasy of living the rest of my life wrapped in the warmth of loving only her.

And she is brainwashed into believing and living in the shadows of fear planted by a sick excuse of a man.

My heart is hers – I call her “Mi Corazon” – for she is my heart. Each beat whispers her name.

I am trapped in my desires to be her man so badly that I cry.

I have to love her one hundred percent.

I am hurting myself loving her.

She is not capable of dropping her past abuses and allowing true love into her life.

A life she would honestly enjoy. If only she were capable of accepting affection.

I have been diagnosed with terminal cancer.

And I cry at the minimum of twelve hours per day.

Not over dying of cancer.

I cry because the kind soul buried deep within me cannot find the resources to show my truest love how to allow herself to be loved truly and faithfully.

I do not wish to die knowing she will live her life afterwards full of unretractable regrets.

She deserves a far better life than she has ever known.

I have earned my chance to finally be a real man and love the way love is portrayed to be.

Am I living a fantasy brought forth by the eccentric hippie attitude within?

Was My Life Hard? I Think Not

I am ‘LightHouse Dann Verner’.

A man who some say has lived many tragic lives.

The first decade of my life I had lived in thirty-two homes. None of which I ever spoke the words, “Mom or Dad“. Only “Mister or Misses”.

I started my ‘Walks‘ at the age of ten fighting the monsters in my head. The demons were winning for many years.

I left my siblings Father’s house at the age of twelve to join a hippie commune and learned how to be a Heroin addict.

I have never slept in my father or mothers house since that day.

That was over fifty years ago…..

Was my life hard?

I think not.

Every life is difficult.

It is our trials and tribulations that define who we become in life.

I have done many things I am ashamed of.

I have done far more that I am proud of.

Never let your past transgressions define your future.

Hold your head high and hold the attitude that you are the best you that you can be today.

For yesterday has ‘passed’.

Tomorrow is always “tomorrow“.

Today is ‘now‘ and only the Creators know what each day will teach you, show you and bring to you.

Never be leary to stand head high.

Always treat each new day as another ‘birth“.

Walk With Dann Collection” tells you of my many trials and tribulations.

Available at:

amazon.com/author/lighthouseverner

How many tears does it take to fill a broken heart?

How many tears does it take to fill a broken heart?

Tears are the measurement of emotional pain.

Love teaches various hurts via the trials and tribulations of a new and advancing relationship

Deeply, madly and truly.

I have been alive 61 years, 6 months and 12 days. I have had my heart demolished and my soul spilt into the gutter more times than any person could withstand.

One of the top priorities in my daily prayer sessions is my six plus decades of begging the Creator for a day, one meager 24 hour time slot, where I do not hurt or cause hurt to someone else.

The two cancer diagnosis,

the stroke,

the abscess from Hell,

the following septicemia battle.

Top that off with an exploded spleen and by the Lords of Donegul I swear you will have a uniquely, traumatic story to tell.

By estimate I can safely say I have cried an Imperial gallon of heartbroken tears in the past 5 months. Or so it seems. Either way it’s suffice to say I cried an enormous quantity of tears.

Of which, ninety-nine percent I have no knowledge why they come.

This causes me to lose a little more of my already drained genetic interpretation of manhood.

I am trapped in the gray brink of Darkness. As I try to get into the Beacon of Light I slide increasingly deeper into the Dark.

I am afraid of THAT darkness. Nothing good can come from within it’s demonic fog.

Definitely not the tears. They are tears of a 61 year old man. One who lived a tragic but full life.

My being raised in the latter 50’s and 60’s gifted me with a learned, but unwanted red neck rampage attitude towards a relationship.

Sprinkle that with the chauvinistic and bigoted attitudes of that era and you will see how it did my young pubescent self no good.

I left my father’s home at the age of 12. I have never slept in my Father’s, nor my Mother’s, home since. This alone should show testimony as to the dancing pool of hormones and rebellions in my mind.

I didn’t cry then.

I never cried.

No.

Not through the beatings.

The tortures.

Nor the loveless foster homes.

I definitely was that boy. The one who WON’T cry.

I am crying now, though. I do not know why.

I am just crying (again).

I was lonely most of my life. The “Stranger in a Strange Land“. The boy who refused to cry. No matter what was hurting him.

To put it in layman’s lingo:

“I have been lonely since October 5th, 1957. I will be even more lonely come October 5th, this year.”

I have been battling personal demons all my live long days. I have never shed as many tears in a few week period as I have shed these past five weeks.

This causes me grief. Greatly.

I developed insomnia – seems to have patterned itself into four days of being wide awake and one day of rest. Leaving my mind to ask,

How many tears does it take to fill a broken heart?”

I am a starving author – (literally)

That calls for a weakened physical state and a mind full of swirling emotions. All of which give the Dark entranceway to the control room of my LightHouse. The demon tries his best to win, but each prayer are bullets of Light.

Especially since I have had to fight the Demon of Suicide 24 hours each day since my beloved spleen exploded and left me crying in the rain.

My last few posts show how I have crawled backwards.

I am trying to bounce back. It’s hard. I am not sure I want to be here.

I fear not Death. Not in the least.

Sad to actually say that.

I would not try suicide. Since my brother committing such I was quickly schooled on being a survivor.

Also, August 22, 2002 I succeeded in killing myself. After a four hour battle in my basement to revive and to stabilize my body, I now sit here before you.

Poring out my inner thoughts and my broken moments. My soul with all it’s hidden secrets would lay before you.

A guess would be that one who cries this many tears is depressed beyond depression. Sad beyond sadness.

Yet, it’s a truth.

I cry still.

I wish I knew the real reason.

I am tired. So very tired.

Physically.

Mentally.

Emotionally I am the sinking of the Bismark.

I am done venting on you.

I am too old to be crying.

Yet …….. I am crying once again and even still shall I cry forever more.

My only regret is I know not THE REAL REASON I have this half full bucket of silent tears.

Perhaps the 2 stage 4 cancers?

Maybe because I am single.

Or maybe my loneliness.

Or because I am realizing that I am not considered as Maria’s “man“. That we aren’t on any channel.

To be officially known as her “man” would be an honor. I would be the happiest man ever.

But, the Darkness has prevented that.

It may very well be that I am dying.

Any how …

I am crying real tears.

Perhaps even the tears of a clown.

The Binds That Tie

I have not been writing much as late.

I have to get back to doing so.

I am overloading my mind with chaos and confused emotions.

The cancer eats at me even when it is laying dormant. “Am I going to die?” or “Will I soon be a husk of my former self?” – these two questions echo to and fro within the confines of my mind.

The tears I have yet to understand. They flow without rhyme or reason. Occasionally I have a warning. Many times I have not. On a crowded bus they leak out my eyes and trickle down my cheeks. I have learned not to be embarrassed. We all cry occasionally.

Why am I crying???

I know not why. Perhaps it is fear of the cancer, or sadness from the condition of my emaciated body, or my feelings of unworthiness.

I know I have worth. I know I have been allowed to live for a greater reason than I have knowledge of.

In a few mere weeks I transitioned from one tough mofo of a streetwise gangster to a 102 pound HUMBLED man. A man who at 61 realizes that honesty, caring and devotion are the key ingredients to being a productive cog in the machine of life.

The cancer, stroke,abscess, septicemia and exploded spleen were just mere bumps in the road. Nudges from the Creator.

Unveiled clues to the meaning of my life. A “reset” of my inner core thought process.

Will I be happy sitting on a chair aging into an old man held hostage by thought in a ghetto apartment? Or, will I rejuvenate my soul’s energy and start the final ‘Walk With Dann’ with a new found love of living?

I chose the latter. I chose a life.

I have now been declared legally dead on 9 occasions. How many people can say this?

I used to wonder why I have been Blessed with returning from Death. I do not wonder now, for I know that I have a purpose yet to be revealed. A calling I will soon discover and understand.

I will not allow my physical ailments nor my psychological turmoil to steer my Walk.

I will leave those steps in the hands of the Creator.

When my calling and purpose births itself, I shall be ready.

It may well be as simple as writing yet another book about life lessons learned, or, it may be a complicated array of lecturing the youth or teaching the elders.

Only the Creator knows for sure what my destiny holds. I look forward to the day I obtain self realization and take the first step onto the path I must “Walk”.

I am but a grain of sand on the beach of life …….

Yet, I hold the power to change the world

Namaste’

D-day 4 Dann

I have cancer on my mind.

Literally ….. true story.

As I previously wrote, I have been diagnosed with ‘oropharyngeal cancer’ in the neck and my cranium.

Which has migrated into my skull proper.

Hence soon, if not already, ‘brain cancer‘.

So,

Deja Vu.

Once again it’s 4:20AM and here I sit, awake. Day 4 without sleep.

The physical pain is insane.

Yet, my broken ‘heart’ & ‘spirit’ are far worse.

I cried all last night over a personal matter and the stress of waiting for the upcoming news.

And, Deja Vu.

Here I sit crying like a pussy once again.

The second night in a row.

Mostly over the personal matter of learning that I am being perceived as ‘dishonest’ and a liar regarding my vows of love & of friendship.

I am or have been a murderer, a robber, a gangster, a thief and an idiot.

BUT a dishonest lover I am not, nor could I ever be.

I was self-raised on these streets since the age of 12.

I learned young that your ‘Love’ for your partner MUST be true and definitely sincere. You cannot say that you love someone and then cheat or lie to them.

I take pride in my loyalty, my love, my devotion and most of all my ‘HONESTY’. These are the cornerstones of any couple.

Anyone who knows me well knows I am not dishonest. I do not, have not, nor would I ever ‘cheat’.

I know the pain that inflicts all too well.

I am not dishonest in love.

I don’t lie about my emotions.

Nor would I play with the heart of anyone – friend or foe.

Who would want to claim a false love as real love” ?

No soul has the right to do such an evil thing. No person should ever damage another person in such a sadistic manner.

Many people contort the definition of “love”.

I learned very young that if you say something it should be sincere and honest.

I love my ‘Queen’.

The love I have for her cannot be shared with anyone else. I have given her all my heart. As you are supposed to when you swear your love.

She is my true soul mate, my lover, she’s my best friend. She is “mi Corazon“.

And one Corazon is all you get.

I have many friends.

The majority being females. Guys are idiots. My circle is a triangle.

I tell them both, male or female, that I love them all the time. I do love them. They are my friends.

But, not the way I “love” mi Corazon.

Definitely not in a sexual way.

It is not that type of “love”. It’s the love you show a ‘true friend’.

A completely different type of love.

Secondly,

My tears also have been falling as I am coming to the realization that I may have to face that ‘final‘ ….

Walk With Dann” .

That torturous, downward spiral of pain ending in the horrific death of cancer eating my brain like an invisible zombie.

61 years of hurt I endured so far.

The majority via a broken heart. Time after time. Over and over.

I don’t fear loving just because I have been a victim of dishonesty.

You cannot punish your future for what your past ‘has’ done. (Key word being ‘HAS’).

I am tired. Very, very tired.

Not sure if I should try to battle this battle or succumb to the depression and sadness perched upon my shoulders.

Death would be so relaxing. I know first hand.

You can’t cry over being perceived as a dishonest person when you are dead.

For to live and share your honest, deepest feelings to people who do not believe a word you speak is a real ‘Hell’.

Read my ‘Walk With Dann Collection’. I explain how your perception of ‘Heaven & Helheim’ are not as you are taught or even perceive them to be.

I am tired of adult life.

I am very, very, very tired.

And now it is D DAY 4 Dann

Later today I will receive either the worse news anyone would wish to hear,

or, perhaps the medium bad news stating a long list of parts to be removed,

or, good news saying that they can remove all the cancer and I shall live lonely ever after.

Yahoo!!!!!!

Good news for some people … not so much me.

I am tired.

Very tired.

I am all alone in a crowded room.

That room called ‘life‘.

And I am tired.

As we say in Nazarim, “Hineni”

“I’m ready my Lord”.

Life‘ number 8 was far more painful the my 7 times ‘dead‘.

I have mixed emotions over the cancer and what course of action I should follow.

Right now 70% of me is saying to refuse all and every treatment, come home, sit on my favourite chair and wait for death.

I want to.

I am not ‘living‘ – I am merely ‘existing’.

I am tired of existing.

30% of me hopes everything will workout and I will be happy.

But, how can a man perceived by his truest love as a liar and dishonest man find reasoning to fight has third battle with the demon desease?

And I am tired, very tired.

I guess I will find the answer to that question in exactly five hours and sixteen minutes.

Life has to have meaning. My dictionary of life is completely used up.

I honestly do not wish to go on existing without meaning.

No matter what, I have had a 61 year wild Nantucket Sleigh ride through every walk of life there is.

And now …….

I am tired.

I look forward to Valhalla or Helheim.

Be it sooner or much later.

I will smile as I enter either.

For then my heart will no longer hurt, nor my eyes bleed tears of heart ache.

I am an honest man. I believe strongly I am.

And I would never cheat on a soul I pledged my heart to.

I have a huge decision to make today.

It’s a literal ‘life or death‘ choice I must make.

At this time I am leaning towards ‘no treatment’.

We will see what happens at the hospital.

I am tired and I want to go home.

Plus, I ain’t looking so well …